Seven foot high Angels guard my door,
They let in the good, the rich and the poor.
In health or in sickness, still, they come,
And animate my body and alive I become.
They call on me at 11: 11 'cos thats their time,
That's how they show their presence
With no smell of incense.
I know they are there 'cos the timings just right,
They encourage my life to hold on tight.
So I do not give up the desperate fight,
But sleep in peace throughout the night.
Seven foot high Angels guard my bed,
And give solace to my weary head.
They are not there to talk to,
For that would not work so,
So I keep the faith,
Against my wraith.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Really like this angelic piece. Interesting. I have a book on angel numbers and the 1111 also means to pay attention to your repetitive thoughts and ideas as they are the answers to your prayers. Just a little FYI for you!